


the other night

by mechabre (yogoshite)



Category: Mabinogi (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Choking, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Immortals, M/M, No Beta, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yogoshite/pseuds/mechabre
Summary: You look up and see only darkness, the vague halo of Vayne's silhouette from the moon. He insists on darkness when you meet. You know he's hiding something from you. At this point, you have elected not to know.





	the other night

Vayne drags his incisors up the nape of your neck, a threatening of teeth. It shouldn't make your blood sing so, it shouldn't make your immortal heart stutter in your breast, but gods, you feel as if you could die. You grind your hips against him and fist the bedsheets in a way you think might please him. You don't think it does, because he just continues his filthy grind against your ass, so you must be doing something wrong. Things are so simple when he has you in bed, just teeth and tongue and skin and breath. He hasn't given you what you want yet, so you simply must not have figured out how he wants you to beg.

He laughs into your shoulder blade, puffing hot against your skin. Effortlessly, he flips you, and you're struck again by the ease with which he could rip you apart, if he wanted to. His hands, calloused and broad, handle you like a plaything. You look up and see only darkness, the vague halo of Vayne's silhouette from the moon. He insists on darkness when you meet. You know he's hiding something from you. At this point, you have elected not to know.

Vayne can see you better than you can see him, the way the light falls, and you know how you must look, hair a mess around you and eyes dark and hazy. Your body throbs, you cant your hips against him. His cock's against yours now, and you feel the friction as he ruts against you, slow and dirty, in long, languid rolls of his hips. He's hard against you, but otherwise, it seems like he could do this all day, simply whiling away the time until you break.

You whine low, reach up to knit your fingers into his hair.

"Please." The word is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and even here, reduced to naked, shivering flesh beneath him, it makes you burn with shame. He presses his cock against you harder to pull a whimper from you.

"Please, what?" Vayne's voice is deep and playful. So this is the game he wants to play.

"Please -- please. F-fuck me." It's a testament to how well he's trained you, the ease with which it comes out. You can't see it, but you know he grins, and he finally lines his cock up against your hole and sinks into you.

Vayne doesn't fuck gentle. He never does. But the roughness has a rhythm and a precision to it that makes your toes curl. He shoves your ankles up near your ears in an effortless motion, his breath coming in short pants close to your face. You're definitely seeing more than you're meant to at this point, but you choose not to process it, or maybe you just can't, not with Vayne pressing you down and Vayne driving inside you and filling you and Vayne, and Vayne, and Vayne. Your clutching hands slip down to his shoulders and you weakly cry out that name, but he doesn't like that for some reason, because he growls under his breath and his hand finds your throat. Oxygen loss doesn't do much for you, not anymore, but he's found the little veins in your neck and he's _pressing_ and it makes stars spring before your eyes. Any further cries die in your windpipe.

Your body spasms under him, around him, something wild enters his manner watching you twitch and shudder underneath him. He fucks into you harder, and you feel like you might break here, be destroyed, be consumed by that fire in his eyes, burnt up starting from his fingers around your neck. your cock throbs and dribbles pre onto your belly, making a mess of yourself under the intensity of his unseen gaze.

"Yes," Vayne breathes, so close you can feel his breath against your lips. "Pretty, you're pretty like this. You should let yourself give in more often." It'd sound like a lullaby but for the fray at the edges, betraying how close he is. He tightens his hand around your neck, and you let out a choked noise as you _feel_ rather than see darkness start to prick at the edges of your vision. You're so hard it hurts, but your hands feel like lead.  Giving in. Giving in sounds nice. Your mind feels hazy, body thrumming with stimulation, right at the edge of climax. He hikes your hips up  enough to get a good angle and reaches his free hand to wrap around you, calluses sparking rough against your too-sensitive shaft, and that's it. You're gone, You're so pinned against him you can do little more but twitch and fist the bedsheets as your orgasm takes you like a summer storm, rolling over your body in powerful, numbing waves even as consciousness bleeds from you under Vayne's unyielding hand. You feel yourself fade with the aftershocks and the faint knowledge of Vayne stuttering and grunting above you as he finds his own release shortly after, a show of weakness you're only barely conscious for.

You awaken only a few moments later, panting in bed, and you're alone, but the sheets are still warm. You blearily turn your head, feeling bruised and sticky in places you'd rather not think about. You spot Vayne as you're wiping the spittle from the corners of your mouth by the telltale sound of him replacing his armor. He still cuts a fearsome silhouette in the moonlight even half-armed. You watch him for a while, until he finishes up, then you close your eyes, pretending to still be unconscious.

You know he's probably aware you're awake by now, but it's another little lie you both share. Vayne steps to the bed, armor rattling gently. A single hand runs through your hair, a pregnant pause, and then he's gone, crossing the room and leaving the inn quickly while the other tenants are asleep. You watch him go without a word, until the flutter of his cape vanishes through the door. It's the way this arrangement has always gone, the way it has to go. You're not sad. Sad isn't the right word. You feel more like an empty fireplace, waiting patiently to be set alight again.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: mech4bre
> 
> listen. g23 just had me horny for some ill-advised fuckbuddy fic between g22 and g23. we are all fucked by vayne


End file.
